What makes a shoe?
by VioletDragonian
Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir are expected to always be serious. No one would even consider that sometimes, the two sleep deprived teenagers protecting all of Paris can have their silly moments, too. And especially not that they'd spend their free time together arguing over the exact terminology for Ladybug's suit - especially not when one side of the argument is for footie pajamas.


If you were to ask anyone in the city, any average civilian, or the law enforcement, or any adults in any position of power, they'd all tell you the same thing. They'd all say that Ladybug and Chat Noir were always serious, hard working, doing their best, even when the odds were against them. They'd tell you that they couldn't imagine the two heroes goofing off, at least not any more than Chat Noir did with his jokes, and even then he still got his job done. They couldn't imagine the two being blatantly silly and carefree, just for the sake of it, even if you reminded them the two were teenagers. No, the city just couldn't picture it.

But the fact was, when it came down to it, they _were_ just silly teenagers. Teenagers with too much pressure on their shoulders, with not enough free time, and definitely not enough sleep. They pushed themselves too hard, the city pushed them too hard, their parents did too, and they still had school. At the most stressful and work-filled stage of their entire school careers, they were just unlucky enough to be superheroes at the same time. In Ladybug's case, she had school, and then homework, and then she had to make time for friends and family, and then she had to make time for every akuma attack, and then patrols at night, and then any personal hobbies she wanted to fit in had little time of their own and that wasn't even counting the time she was supposed to sleep.

And that was only half of what Chat Noir had to deal with. He had twice as much on his plate than even she did.

Suffice to say, the city's favorite superhero duo _really_ didn't get enough sleep.

Which is exactly how they ended up in their current position, that the entire city would be floored if they were to witness it.

Because Ladybug and Chat Noir were always serious, obviously. They weren't silly, sleep deprived teenagers at all, nope.

* * *

"Okay, but see, I've got boots."

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at him, looking at where he held up his feet from where they'd been swinging over the edge of the roof they sat on. "Okay, so? You're more armored anyway." She mused, sipping her coffee.

"Yes, but see," He raised a hand, and pointed at her own feet. She copied him, sticking her legs out straight beside his. "You don't have boots at all."

"So? It's supposed to be, I don't know, lithe and easy to move in?"

Chat shook his head. "No, but see, that doesn't make sense. I'm the cat, I should be the sneaky one."

"I'd say ladybugs are way less noticeable than cats. You can't walk anywhere without tripping over a cat." She countered. "Not to mention, you're a great distraction. You couldn't be sneaky if you tried, you don't need quiet shoes."

"Hey!"

"S'true."

"Okay but like, hear me out." He tried, and she relented, tilting her head. "Say you are supposed to be the sneaky one, whatever. But like, sneaky or not, shouldn't you still have shoes?"

Ladybug squinted. "I _do_ have shoes."

"No, your feet are covered. But they aren't shoes."

"I don't follow."

He started gesturing with his hands, describing an actual shoe with the movements like a game of charades. "Okay like, shoes have soles, and they bend funny when you stand on your toes, and you can see where they end at your ankle."

"So?"

"But your suit isn't like that. It's like… your suit is just, socks."

" _Excuse_ me?"

"Like! I don't know! You just don't have shoes, it's all suit. Like if you wore pants that somebody sewed up the legs of, or… Oh! I know! Your suit is footie pajamas!"

"My suit is _not_ pajamas!" Ladybug spluttered.

"But do you go outside in footie pajamas? Do they count as shoes?" Chat pushed, looking at her pointedly.

"No, they don't have- soles. Oh."

" _Exactly._ " He crossed his arms, satisfied that he'd won.

"But no, that's still not true, cause like…" Ladybug held up her legs again, and pointed at her feet. "If it was just, like, a sock, you'd be able to see my toes."

She wiggled said toes, further proving her point as it was impossible to see the individual digits moving under the suit.

"See? You can't see toes in a shoe, either."

"I, hm…" When Chat was lost for words, trying to think up another argument, she grinned at him smugly.

"I win." Satisfied, she turned back to face the city skyline, and took a big drink of her coffee.

"Okay but like, sandals show toes, and they're still shoes. I think it's the sole that makes something a shoe. Therefore, you don't have shoes."

Ladybug choked on her coffee, spluttering, and Chat laughed.

"Ladybug wears footie pajamas."

She whipped around to glare at him. "My suit is _not_ footie pajamas." But he was already slowly creeping to his feet and backing away.

"I'm just gonna… Go tell the first reporter I find!" He shouted, launching himself away and dashing across the rooftops. "Ladybug wears footie pajamas!"

" _Chat!"_ She shouted back, scrambling after that _damn_ cat.

Yeah, the heroes of Paris definitely weren't silly, sleep deprived teenagers.

Not at all.


End file.
